


Snakes and Lions

by ReishaTerrin



Series: Snakes and Lions [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/F, M/M, Out of character Ron Weasley, Ron Weasley Bashing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-15
Updated: 2016-12-16
Packaged: 2018-09-08 18:00:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,479
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8855437
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ReishaTerrin/pseuds/ReishaTerrin
Summary: AU. Hermione G/Pansy P. Rated T: "After catching Ron in a compromising situation, Hermione finds comfort in the arms of someone unexpected..." This was my very first fiction ever posted online. Set during Half Blood Prince.





	1. Chapter 1

* * *

 

Hermione Granger heaved a heavy breath as she made a brisk walk through the corridors that night. The halls were dark and empty, illuminated only by the few candles that lit her path towards Gryffindors Common room, just as she’d expected them to be.

She didn't mind. Hermione had grown so use to the cold, lonesome nights and contrary to belief, she enjoyed the silent walk through the Castle's halls. The leisurely pace accompanied with the echo of footsteps was rather comforting to her ears. But tonight Hermione Granger had other plans.

It was a rare when Hermione managed to returned to the common room before midnight. That was a fact. The reputation of being; _‘The brightest witch of her age’_ wasn't earned without a rigorous routine of studying, one that consisted of lots of reading and long nights at the library. No not at all. Sacrifices had to be made when it came to her studies.

Tonight however, she’d finish earlier than she anticipated, much to Madam Pince’s delight in fact and she decided against continuing. She'd much rather spend what few hours of moonlight that left with her loving boyfriend.

If Ron was still up perhaps the two of them could enjoy a good round of snogging. Maybe even some light petting and snuggling by the fireplace.

Hermione giggled. And with those warm— if not less than chaste— thoughts in mind, the girl dashed straight towards The Fat Lady's portrait. She had been so engrossed in her hopes, that she’d even let off a few third years with just a warning and irritated glare for breaking curfew as she climbed the stairs three steps at a time.

Recognizing the bright brunette's hurry after so many years, The Fat Lady swung opened without her usual query.

The Common room was nearly empty, she found. Harry and Ginny were still up, seated across each other in the far corner of the room. The scruffy-haired wizard wore a wide grin on his face, as he spoke to the freckled red-head about what Hermione could only assume was Quidditch— being one of two things Harry Potter talked about all the bloody time. She didn’t understand how Ginny didn't find it all insufferable. She skipped over to the pair either way.

“Have either of you seen Ron?” she asked, welcoming the flutter in her stomach she felt every time she thought of the boy she loved with all her heart.

Harry nodded, a smile gracing his lips. “He went up to his room about ten minutes ago, he said something about not feeling well. Bet you can get that all sorted out, right 'Mione?” Harry waggled his brows. Hermione felt her cheeks heat.

His insinuations earned him a playful smack from Ginny as the redhead shouted words of encouragement.

Hermione ran up the stairs to the boy’s dormitory, trying to contain her excitement. Upon opening the door, her heart shattered and she was treated with the sight of Ron, in a rather intimate position with Padma Patil, each too caught up in the act to even notice she was there.

 _‘Oh my god…’_ she thought. She must have said it out loud though, because Ron looked over his shoulder and suddenly sprang away from Padma as if their connection burned.

“Hermione! This isn’t— its not— I-It’s not what you think!” Ron said loudly, fumbling around for his pants. Padma cowered beneath the covers as though they were an invisibility cloak.

Ron continued, “It was nothing! Just an accident!”

“An accident? Did you bloody well lose your trousers and fall between her legs?!” Hermione cut him off. He opened his mouth to answer and she saw red. “Don’t you dare! Don’t you dare lie to me Ronald Weasley!” she shrieked.“You’re a dirty rotten cheat! I never thought you could stoop as low as–as–” she struggled for the word, the tears stung her eyes. “A Slytherin!” she finished lamely. It wasn't the best of insults.

With her outburst she turned and hurried back down the stairs into the common room.

If she had been any faster she might have made it out of the portrait hole.

Ron beat her to it.

She felt a hard hand grasp her shoulder before she found herself spun around to face the angry Weasley; still shirtless and the shade of a plum, his eyes were wide with anger. “A Slytherin? Take that back Hermione, I’m nothing like the lot of them!” he growled.

“Don’t touch me!” Hermione snarled back. She roughly pulled from his grasp. “And I most certainly will not take it back, because it’s true! You're nothing but a rotten cheat!” she shouted, angry and oblivious to the crowd that had gathered around them.

“What the bloody hell is going on?" Ginny pressed herself between Hermione and Ron—who was turning so red the veins were popping at the sides of his head. Their eyes met and worry etched across her face. "Hermione what happened?”

"Did you know?" Hermione whimpered. "Tell me you didn't know Ginny."

Ginny shook her head slowly, "Hermione? I don't understand, what happened? What's wrong?"

“She’s gone off her bloody rocker!  That’s what happened!” Ron snarled.

Hermione scoffed tearfully. “I'm off my rocker?! I’m not the one shagging Padma Patil ! You stay away from me Ronald Weasley or I’ll hex you into oblivion!” she threatened.

There was a pause and the color returned to Ron’s face. The room grew quiet. Hermione had never been one to threaten, but such a threat from her  was one to be feared—given her reputation of using advanced spells and hexes.

Instead of living up to his well-known temper, a smirk split Rons face.

“Doesn’t matter,” he sneered. “I’ve had enough of you. I’m tired of pretending to like you, the 'All-Knowing Hermione Granger',” he snorted. “No more pretending to love you. I may be a blood-traitor but you’re just a filthy Mudblood.”

There were several gasps, Hermione froze, her eyes wide as though she had seen a Basilisk slither out of his mouth. Hot tears rolled down her cheeks and she turned and ran out of the room, almost going through The Fat Lady's portrait as if it had not opened fast enough.

 

❖

 

Pansy Parkinson without a doubt had it all. She was gorgeous. Smart. Talented. Extremely rich and had complete power over her house— so much so that she was widely acknowledged as: ‘The Queen of Slytherin.’ a title so fearful that even the seventh years obeyed her.

Tonight, however, she was everything but a Queen.

It had been an extremely long night for Pansy, between Head Girl duties— worsened by the Head Boy, none other than Slytherins Prince: Draco Malfoy and his constant complaints about a certain chosen boy, and Gryffindor Mudblood. She had grown so tired of it. Tired of anything and everything mentioned about the Gryffindors, especially Potter and Granger. But every night Pansy had been forced to endure Draco's prattle of the two. Weasel was just a sideshow attraction. The freckled blood-traitor who clung to Granger from day one like a love sick puppy. Drooling after her everywhere they went. And then it happened, at the beginning of the year they started dating. And she had hated it. She didn't quite understand why, but watching the pair bothered her more than she thought it would.

She shook her head.

That was not an issue she wanted to think any further of. No, the more important issue had been the eighteen paged essay on the many uses of wolfsbane she had yet to even begin. And on top of that was Flitwick's silly charms exercises and another eight pages of written notes on each charm. She was exhausted and the weekend was too far off.

After her rounds she’d gone straight to the library and began her long hours of studying, only to be forced out seconds past curfew. Not without several furious, unpleasant words at Madame Pince on her way out. Frustrated, she’d had no choice then to return to the Dungeons.

This was the reason why she had an armful of Potions and Charms texts.

Angrily, she began to turn a corner, not once seeing the other person turning just as she did, and the pair of them collided. Scrolls and quills scattered. Limbs tangled, pain shot through Pansy’s side, knees and as a forehead connected with hers, Pansy ended up on the ground beneath the girl she knew right away to be Hermione Granger.

"Watch it Mud—” She cut herself short, taking notice of how the other girl’s face was red, blotched and runny. “Hell, Granger you look bloody well awful. I’ll have to praise whom ever did it. Was it Weasel? Did the happy couple have a row?” She sneered.

“Parkinson… It's past curfew,” Granger sniffed. She wiped her nose on her sleeve and turned her gaze away. The tears still fresh within her eyes. This was perfect. She hadn't had any confrontation with the know it all yet. Not since McGonagall slapped her with a detention for jinxing the youngest Weasel's transformation exercise. As though it were her fault. It had made her furious, that self-righteous smirk Granger wore and the praise she gave the younger girl. Like they were better than her.

But now, as luck would have it, now the Gryffindor was alone. No Potty or Weasel to protect her little Mudblood self.  “Must you point out the obvious you filthy Mudblood?” The leer on her face fell when Granger released a choked sound and those tears began to roll down her cheeks. She began sobbing.

Pansy hadn’t expected… well this. Sure, seeing the Gryffindor bookworm in tears was an everyday goal, but, somehow this felt wrong. It was so easy, too easy that it made her stomach twist. She gaped. Grangers sobbing was so broken. Lost. Pansy felt her throat constrict when Granger’s hands clutched at her own chest, body trembling as though her heart were truly broken. Pansy had never seen the girl cry like this before. She’d never seen any girl cry like this before.

Unsure of what drew her toward the action, Pansy did something so completely unlike her, you would have thought she’d gone completely mental: she embraced Hermione Granger. Her arms wrapped safely around the crying girl and she merely held her. She rocked gently and rubbed circles upon Grangers back— the way Daphne did when Pansy were upset.

Granger seemed to welcome the warmth and comfort. It surprised Pansy: The action. The need of comforting the girl. The way Granger pressed into her. How Granger’s delicate form molded so perfectly against her own. The warmth and softness of her body… It was…

It had....

It sent an unexpected shiver through her.

Pansy stayed silent. She didn’t dare move when the sobbing began to slow. Just as she thought that it might finally stop, Grangers second wind came in and she was clutching at Pansy’s robes. She hiccuped, shaking her head while she whimpered, pleading for some kind of understanding. _Did he do this to you?’_   she wondered.

Once again Grangers sobbing returned to soft sniffling. She wiped her face on her sleeves and Pansy wondered if she’d forgotten where she was when she didn’t say or do anything else. “Are you alright Granger?” Pansy asked. She barely heard herself speak, but when Granger nodded.  

“I-I’m sorry Pansy, that was… completely childish of me....” Granger's voice was quiet, raspy… beautiful.

 _Say my name again…_ Pansy thought. _Wait, what?_ Her cheeks grew hot. Pansy hoped that she  wasn't blushing as much as she felt she was. When their gazes met, she nearly gasped. Granger was a vision: Messy hair framed her somewhat red face, her brown eyes, swollen around the area, were still so bright and her perfect teeth, had they always been so gorgeous? They were sinking into her trembling, plump lips—‘No! I shouldn't be doing this, this is Granger! Mudblood Granger!’ she scolded herself. Just what in the bloody hell had she gotten herself into?

Everything in that moment came rushing back to her: Granger was a girl she hated. A Gryffindor. An annoying know-it-all Mudblood! If anyone happened to see them her life would be over. They had to change the situation.

“Do you mind getting off then?” She said the first thing she could think of. She’d somehow managed to keep her voice steady.

“S-sorry Parkinson,” The brunette hastily sat back on her knees, her voice cracked and Pansy hoped that she wasn’t going to start crying again.

“Bloody hell Granger,” Pansy shook her head. “I thought you'd stopped caring about being called a–”  Mudblood was the last thing she should say to the girl, “... that. We’ve hardly had glare from you, since...” Pansy shrugged. Since the fourth year, but Granger didn’t need to know that she noticed. She gathered her school work —with no help from Granger— and moved past the sitting girl as quickly as possible. When she was halfway across the hall, she added loudly, “Although, I suspect this will surely be good for a laugh. Wait until everyone hears that Gryffindors Know-it-all was sobbing like a baby.” Her snicker was half-hearted, but it needed to be placed and it took a strong amount of will to keep herself from breaking into an all-out run for Slytherins Dungeons when she was finally out of the the other girls line of sight.

It took several long and agonizing minutes of fast-paced walking before Pansy made it to the safety of her common room. It, the room, being empty was an even greater stroke of luck. Pansy threw her bag and school supplies into one of the large sitting chairs and slumped into another, turning her gaze towards the flames which were dancing merrily in the fireplace.

The image of Granger was still fresh in her mind: How it felt to hold the crying girl. Grangers body was so much smaller than hers, a perfect fit really, oddly comfortable. Granger had even… well... Granger wasn’t bad looking, not really, no where as hideous as Draco made her out to be. If her hair weren’t such a bleeding mess and her overly long robes… but that was besides the point. Not that Pansy paid any attention. Still, after what she'd saw tonight? She supposed that in some way, somehow, Granger was kind of adorable. Pansy had wanted to–

“No!” She leapt from the chair as if burned. What in the name of Moaning Myrtle was she thinking? She could not _allow_ herself to think like this. It was a one time thing. Tomorrow they would be back at hating each other. The next time she saw Granger, _she_ would be the one making the Mudblood cry.

Pansy sighed, she was exhausted. _‘Why was she even crying in the first place?’_ she wondered. She rose and retreated towards her room. Homework and essays long forgotten.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of the characters All rights Belong to JK Rowling. I thank my beta readers/writers Sam and Andy for this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Abscesio Inflatato - targets an injured part of the body and enlarges any pus pockets present to bursting levels

* * *

Over the course of the next several weeks, Pansy found that her thoughts were always lingering on that encounter in the corridor. In fact, she found that her attention was always drifting back to Hermione Granger, curious about the change in her. She thought that perhaps Granger was ill. She looked to be. When Pansy saw her that morning at breakfast. Granger looked bloody well awful. Nothing like the same beautiful— not that she was looking— girl she was a month ago. For one Granger looked exhausted. Not the ‘ _I over studied and didn’t get enough sleep’_ exhausted. No. This was alarming. Granger looked ten years older and moved as though she’d break any moment. Her eyes were no longer bright and held dark circles under them. Her skin was no longer fair or light, but pale and deathly. As though she'd never spent a moment in the sun. Her hair was dirty and messy— more so than normal. But the most alarming aspect had been the amount of weight Granger had lost, and the fact that Pansy couldn’t even remember the last time she’d seen the girl eat.

 _Is Granger ill?_ Pansy wondered.

Her physical appearance had been the more alarming factor in her, but Pansy didn’t fail to notice the downfall of her participation during classes. After all, when had Hermione Granger ever refused to answer a professor's question? But she’d done just that. For weeks Granger declined any and every question thrown her way in Charms and was unusually quiet during their Advance Potions lesson. Even Professor Snape, though he’d never seemed to speak to her of anything, had worn a look of concern whenever his gaze fell on the ill girl.

 _Could she really be ill? Is it serious?_ Pansy shook her head, irritated with herself. _Stop it. Why would I care for the Mudblood anyway?_ She sighed. That was the question, wasn’t it? She asked herself the same thing every day since that night in the corridor. Never was there an answer and curiosity always got the better of her. Taking now for example: here she was, keeping a close eye on the brunette. Hoping to unravel the mystery of her sudden behavior. If she had to guess? She turned her gaze along the Gryffindors table. Granger was there with Potter and the little Weasley brat on either side of her, and the rest sitting as far away as possible.

 _What’s going on there?_ Pansy wondered. In the weeks since that night she — as well as the entire school— found that the Gryffindors were skating around one another. They had become split. The Golden Trio swapped one Weasley for another. And Pansy was sure that the pig, Ronald Weasley had something to do with Granger. Days after that night she spotted the Blood-traitor sporting a broken, bruised nose and Potter with equally bruised knuckles. When the brat Weasley began to take his spot at breakfast it was clear that he was no longer part of Potters special group. Her eyes found him a little ways down the table. Stuffing his face two hands at a time, with one of those Patil girls sitting prettily at his side.

 _What the bloody hell did you do to Granger you freckled pig?_ Pansy sighed again. Another Question without an answer.

“Pansy, what the devil has you staring so hard at the Gryffindors?” Pansy fought the urge to scowl. She tried to look bored, not interested or concerned. Draco continued. “Don’t tell me you have your eye on Potter? Fancy being a lion do you?”

“Piss off Draco, I’m not in the mood to entertain your ludicrous assumptions.” She poked at her meal.

“So it’s not Potter then?” Draco turned his gaze over the three Gryffindors. “Blood-traitors are fine Pansy, but really? Mudbloods are beneath you,” he paused and drank from his flagon, “Well not yet but you understand.”

Pansy didn’t rise to the bait. She was much too smart for that. Looking at him she smiled, “beneath us, huh?” Then she nodded as though she understood something and sighed. Pansy turned her eyes towards the Hufflepuffs, at a pretty little darked skinned girl, sitting happily with several Hufflepuff boys and few Ravenclaws. “Well, then need I remind you that I know exactly who it is that you eye shag ever moment of the day?” she looked at Draco. “Shall I share it with the rest of house? Perhaps you fancy being the perfect little Huff–”

Draco hissed at her. “You shut your mouth. I was only teasing,” he snorted. “Who the bloody hell’s twisted your knickers this morning?”

“You and your Intolerable mouth.” Pansy said dryly. Besides her Blaise shifted uncomfortable, staring forward. Pansy followed his gaze.

_Oh? What’s this—_

“I’m warning you Ron. You need to back off and stay away from us.” Potter spoke harshly, that tone Pansy had only ever heard him speak to Draco with. He’d drawn the attention of students and what staff was there that morning alike.

“Come on Harry…” Weasley complained. “Don’t tell me you’re choosing her over me.”

“Hermione needs me.” Potter said. Pansy almost rolled her eyes. Wouldn't that be like him to think that everyone needs him. Pansy could have filled the position better if she trie– wanted to. Not that she did. But still.

“I can’t believe you’re taking her side on this! Bloody hell! It was a bleeding break up, she’s blowing this up far bigger than it needs to be!” He slammed his hand on the table. “Move on already Hermione, it’s been weeks!” He snapped. Granger flinched under him. Pansy felt her fork bend.

“Back off Ron!” the brat snapped.

Weasley snorted. “You too Gin?”

“Don’t you Gin me you prat. I’m not Harry. We’re siblings not friends. Hermione is my best friend she’s been like a sister to me and you bloody well broke her! Stay away from us, don’t make me warn you again big brother.”

“Oh for crying out loud. It was a break up! She’s bloody well lucky I didn’t as for what I was due!”

“Is that it then?” Potter shoved Weasley by the shoulder, surprise took the redhead. “Hermione wouldn’t put out for you so you thought you’d get your cake elsewhere?” He shoved him again, this time at the chest.

 _He cheated on her? That's it?_ Pasny felt a little angry now. She worried over nothing. Not that she cared.

“I put up with her for months, Harry! You have to understand. You know how annoying she can be. Always studying and spending all her time in the library. Acting all high and mighty just because her grades are better. She’s lucky I went with her as long as I did!”

“Augh! You bleeding bastard!” Little Weasley bit and this time she shoved her brother. “Because she studies too much? It’s thanks to all that studying you’ve survived these last several years!” she shoved him again. Pansy wondered what the professors were going to do before things got out of hand. Despite the fact she wanted to see it through.

Draco clapped. “Trouble in Paradise potter?” Pansy wanted to scream. Only he would find this to be the perfect opportunity to insert himself. She had always found this to be an irritating aspect of his. “Weasley finally sees a Mudblood for what it is!” He threw his head back and laughed. Granger shrank in her seat as the entire Slytherin table joined him.

A green flash flew across the distance of the two tables. Draco flew off his feet and landed on his back. Pansy nearly laughed. The littlest Weasley kept her wand poised and Pansy could see the anger in those hazel eyes from where she sat. When Draco rose and whirled around, angry as well, she wrinkled her nose as yellow and green strands of snot pulled from his own, formed into bats and flew at the boy. Draco screeched, high like a girl as he tried to fend off the hex.

This time Pansy did laugh. _It’s always the little one that have the worst bite!_ She looked over towards the Gryffindors in time to see the young girl poising her want at the older Weasley, right at his face. She was the very definition of a Lioness who’d cornered her prey.   

“Come on Gin.” his voice made a strange rasping sound. He was afraid. “You wouldn’t… I’m your brother. I’ve always looked after you. Y-you can’t really be choosing–”

“I’ll choose Hermione everytime.” Ginny Weasley flicked her wand, drew a pattern before them and shouted, **_“Abscesio Inflatato!”_ ** A yellow spark burst from the tip of her wand and struck her older brother square in the face. Weasley screeched like a wounded animal and flew backwards, flipping over the table. He lay still for a moment. Pansy wondered if the spell or hex, whichever it was, had failed until Weasley gave a nasally cry of pain.

When he rose Pansy gaped. The area around Weasley’s nose had inflated and turned black, pulsing red with abscesses bubbling to the surface. They burst when he touch his face, sending pus everywhere. He howled in pain. Potter was grinning and the littlest Weasley returned it with a toothy, open-mouthed smiled and a wink. Pansy felt a level of respect for the girl when the room erupted with praising students.

“What is the meaning of this?” Snape's monotonous voice cut through the commotion of the sudden hexing.

 _Fun’s over._ Pansy frowned as the crowding students parted and made way for Professor Snape. His black robes flowed around him as he strode into the circle, surveying both of the harassed students. Weasley continued howling in pain. He touched his face and more of the abscesses burst. Pus ran down his chin, throat and neck, blackening those areas where more abscesses bubbled forth, red and angry. Padma Patil— if Pansy were certain— was at his side, horrified. Swearing like a Slytherin at the other Weasley, it prompted the younger girl to threaten to hex her mouth straight off. And then there was Draco and his pathetic attempts to stave off snot-bats as they kept diving at his head.

Snape flourished his wand and said, **_“Finite Incantatem!”_ ** A pulse of magic spread throughout the room. Vanishing the hexing snot from existence.  When he was finished, he released a bored sigh. “Fifty points from Gryffindor. Each. Ten points from Slytherin.” he drawled. The gryffindors scowled and groaned and voiced their complaints. It was hardly as surprise that Professor Snape favored his own house, but even Pansy felt it was an unfair punishment as she watched as each enchanted hourglass at the end of the hall immediately drew the number of rubies and emeralds upwards from their respective houses.

“Two weeks of detention. All of you,” Snape continued. “And Miss Patil, please escort Mr. Weasley to Madame Pomfrey before his entire nose comes off.” As he turned to go. Professor Dumbledore strode into the room. He was smiling. His eyes twinkling with either amusement or praise. Pansy wasn’t so sure.

“Professor Snape,” he began, his old voice was tired and raspy, but full of warmth. “While I do agree that points must be lost, I myself, must applaud Miss Weasley for her use of such an hex.” He clapped three times as the Patil girl led Weasley out of the Great Hall. “Thirty-five points to Gryffindor for creativity in an original spell.”

As the rubies returned to their enchanted Hourglasses, the Gryffindors broke into a rowdy cheer, with a silent yet surprising celebration of few nearby Ravenclaws, Hufflepuffs and the hissing of many Slytherins for rewarding knowledge and violence. Like Snape, Professor Dumbledore favored his Gryffindors.  Especially Potter and Granger.

_What did you think Granger? Pansy wondered. Still grinning she turned to look for the brunette, but sometime during the commotion, the witch without notice slipped out of the Great Hall._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another rewritten Chapter. And it's short, sorry, I for one have always disliked too short of chapters but... well ... it is what it is. Also. I've never been much of a Ron lover so.... yeah... Totally love Ginny though.

**Author's Note:**

> So this is a total rewrite of the first Fanfiction I ever wrote. And I decided to post the revised version on here, while keeping my old docs on my other account. I’d been stuck on this fiction for a very long time even though it was my first one and it’s still ongoing, but since it’s not been updated for like… over a year, I figured that since I’m going over each chapter, that hey, are familiar myself with my first ever fanfiction and complete it. If you wanted to read the first original chapters, their on my fanfiction page you can find me there under the same username.


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